


Love Drunk

by Infused



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coffee, Drug Use, How Do I Tag, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Memory Loss, Partying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infused/pseuds/Infused
Summary: 'last night was a haze for both of us and somehow we woke up hungover in a bed that isn't either of ours and also neither of us recognises this apartment we should probably get out of here before someone calls the cops on us' AU.





	1. WTF are we

Isak feels like he's going to vomit.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting as bright sunlight floods his poor, poor retinas.

Okay, nope, his eyes are going to stay firmly shut. His stomach lurches and he burrows further down under the duvet because jesus, Isak is Not Willing to deal with Life right now.

Something warm shifts against his back. A _human_ something. Someone. The someone snakes their arm around Isak's waist and okay, he can deal with being snuggled. Isak shuts his eyes tighter, scoots closer into the friendly spoon behind him and drifts back off to sleep.

It feels like barely five minutes have passed when Isak cracks his eyes open again at a sudden, loud noise.

"I feel like DEATH," a voice from behind Isak announces dramatically.

A very deep, very male voice.

Isak squeaks and rolls away, landing on the floor with a thud.

"Fuck!!" he hisses, rubbing his elbow.

"Qoops! Sorry, that was my fault I think? Need a hand?"

Isak rolls onto his back and looks up at the bed. The someone who the voice belongs to is looming over the edge of the mattress, looking sleep ruffled and soft.

"Dude. Have you never heard of inside voices?" Isak groans, propping himself up gingerly. He rubs a hand over his face, takes another peek at the mystery man and nope, his brain wasn't playing tricks. The Mystery Man is criminally attractive. Killer cheekbones and a pout that'd shame Kylie Jenner.

Mystery Man grins down at Isak and Isak's traitorous heart flutters a little.

"I can be as loud as I like in my bed," MM winks, rubbing his hand over the blue duvet. Then pauses. Frowns.

Isak stares, waits the awkward pause out as MM continues to gaze down at the bed.

"Um," he hesitates, "should I — do you want me to leave?"

MM turns to look at him, his duvet trance breaking at Isak's words.

"Why would you leave..." he says slowly.

"Um, because I'm in your house??? And you seem like you need more sleep?" Isak replies.

"FUCK! **FUCK**!" MM shoots out of the bed, flinging the duvet off like it's crawling in ants.

"Why are we panicking? Should I be panicking?" Isak stands up quickly too, watches as MM scrambles about picking up jeans, t-shirt, shoving battered Nikes onto his feet.

"So," MM is kind of breathless, fumbling to pull his grey t-shirt over his head, "turns out this isn't my place, and it's not yours, and so I'm thinking we should get out of here ASAP."

"Shit!!!” Isak yelps, and okay, what the fuck?? He makes like MM, grabbing his stuff off the floor as quickly as possible, noticing vaguely in the background that MM has dashed over to the window and is shoving the wooden frame upwards.

"Quick!!' MM beckons Isak over as he finishes pulling his shoes on, "let's go!"

"Out of the fucking window?? You have got to be fucking kidding me," Isak hisses. Still, walking through the living room of a house they have presumably broken and entered into seems like an even worse choice than risking a potential broken leg. MM is already scrambling down as Isak rushes over and okay, fuck, the drop down seems big. Maybe having a criminal record isn't such an unappealing option.

MM lands on his feet in the flowerbed below and stops, looks up at Isak.

"Well come on Princess Vivian!" he says, opening his arms, "I'll catch you!"

Isak hangs out the window, hesitating. On the one hand, this guy seems totally insane. On the other hand, Isak is pretty sure that if the guy helps break his fall he'll walk away relatively unscathed.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and then he is hauling himself over the ledge, hands scrambling desperately at unhelpful lay smooth brick until he feels MM's arms around his knees.

"I've got you!"

Isak lets go and they both land with a heavy thump on the ground, the two of them (amazingly) unharmed. The same cannot be said for the bed of carnations beneath them.

"So," MM says breathlessly, pulling Isak to his feet, "I'm pretty sure this is the part where we run like hell."

Isak can't argue with that.

They're at least three streets away before they pause for breath. Isak leans heavily against the glass window of the coffee shop he's propped up against, gasping for breath. 

He sneaks a glance at MM, who is doubled over, his shoulders shaking.

"You can't be serious right now," Isak pants, but no, as MM straightens up Isak sees that he really is laughing hysterically.

"We could have been arrested! We could have broken our legs!" Isak yells, gasps, gives in to the hilarity of the situation.

The pair of them clutch at each other's shoulders, howling.

It takes them a good few minutes to calm down, and then Isak is hyper aware of the weight of MM's hands on his shoulders, and he shifts back out of reach, swallowing heavily.

The smile on MM's face doesn't wear off but it dims a little as Isak puts space between them.

"So," Isak hesitates, unsure of what to say. This morning has been ridiculous (--ly amazing, a small part of his brain whispers) but it feels like it's coming to an end, and he's hyper aware of the fact that he doesn't even know MM's name, let alone how they ended up where they did last night, "I guess I'll be heading home now."

MM reaches out a tentative hand, brushes it against Isak's arm, and nope, that defmitely isn't butterflies again in his stomach, he's just feeling hungover.

"I guess you should be."

Isak can't help but feel disappointed as MM turns away, without so much as a backward glance, pulling open the door of the coffee shop and-

"Wait, are you fucking kidding me? How can your stomach stand coffee right now?!" Isak yelps (and not because he wants MM's piercing eyes fixed on him again, no, he's genuinely curious, and shut up brain).

MM whips his head back round and there is that smile that lights up the whole damn street.

"My shift starts in-" he pulls his phone out of his pocket, screen lighting up as he swipes his thumb across it "-ten minutes, and I get free breakfast ya know, perks of being an employee and all."

And then he disappears through the door and Isak isn't sure if he just got pranked or what, but he looks up at the name of the coffee shop anyway --- FUCKOFFEE --- emblazoned in large orange lettering. 

Shaking his head, a small smile on his face, Isak starts the slow walk back home.

 


	2. Drives me crazy

_18:45, The night of_

_Isak takes a swig of beer, smooths his hands down his white t-shirt, attempting in vain to flatten out some of the creases. He reaches across to his desk and grabs his maroon snap back, jamming it backwards onto his head over his curls._

_Okay, he thinks, eyeballing himself in the mirror, I look okay today, I can work with this._

_He chugs the rest of his beer, throws the can in the general direction of the pile of rubbish growing steadily in the corner of his room. Eskild always bitches when he comes in and sees it, but not all teenage boys can be neat freaks obsessed with everything smelling of lavender, and Eskild will just have to deal._

_Isak checks his phone, sees the boys have been blowing up the group chat. Jonas is talking about picking up and how much they'll all owe him, Mandi is listing the girls he thinks will be at the party tonight. And Magnus - well, Magnus is relaying some weird dream he had about Vilde, and latex clothing and whips, and Isak basically skipped over those messages because they made him gag._

_**Jonas** : Isakyaki bro, we still cool to head over for 7:30?_

_**Isak** : Yeah no problem, see u boys then_

_Isak puts his phone down, flops back on his bed and sighs. The party will probably be pretty good - some second year at Bakka is hosting, and Isak can deal with trashy hipster music and the general air of pretentiousness that surrounds the Bakka students if it means he can smoke, get wasted and potentially hook up with some chick._

_Isak opens his laptop, flicks through his Spotify and puts on A Tribe called Quest lie shuts his eyes, lays down and zones out, until a while later when Eskild knocking on his door breaks him out of his chill._

_"Yeah?!" Isak yells, hitting the space bar on his laptop to pause the track._

_'Your friends are here Isak! Please remind them that alcohol is best when it remains in its drinking utensil and not spilt on the floor. And that they need to take their shoes off because I hoovered this morning and I will be pissed if I have to hoover again tomorrow!" Eskild calls out._

_Isak pushes himself off the bed, banging his bedroom door open and heads through to the entrance way._

_"Hey boys. Dump your shoes here, Eskild will have a heart attack if you keep them on..." Isak rolls his eyes, beckoning the guys through to the kitchen._

_Magnus dumps his 4 pack on the kitchen counter and flops down in a chair, sighing dramatically. "Is it possible to die from blue balls?" he asks._

_"Dude, one dream about Wide is not going to kill you," Mahdi huffs, getting out his skins and filters. Jonas pull out the bag of weed and his tobacco, and the pair of them get started on rolling joints._

_"I mean, there is an easy cure for blue balls," Isak says, hopping up to sit on the counter, "hook up with a chick tonight."_

_"Like, it's not that easy!" Magnus throws his hands in the air. "If it was that easy you think I wouldn't be getting laid all the time? Getting a chick to hook up with me is hard work!"_

_"Maybe it's because your chat is shit?" Jonas grins, sticking the joint in the corner of his mouth, pulling out a lighter from his jean pocket and sparking up._

_Isak reaches out for the joint after Jonas has taken a few puffs, inhales deeply, exhales through his nose._

_"Shit_   _chat, air of desperation. I don't know why you're struggling dude."_

_"Fuck you all," Magnus huffs, cracking open a second can and taking a big swig._

* * *

Isak gets home by 11 a.m.

No one is in the kitchen, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

He's feeling a bit weird this morning - and to be fair, who wouldn't, waking up in some random apartment with a random dude spooning them - and really all he wants to do is go to his room, watch some porn and chill.

"Isak! I see you, don't think you escape the all-seeing Eskild!"

Isak pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs. There's no way he's getting past into his room without telling Eskild what happened last night. Not that he even remembers.

"Yes, Dad, sorry I mean Eskild, let me give you a truly fascinating blow by blow account of my night," Isak says, sitting down on the sofa next to his housemate. "I drank with the boys then can remember jack shit. The end."

Eskild purses his lips.

"That doesn't explain why you've clearly done the stride of pride this morning," he says, propping his elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting his chin in his hand.

"Stride of pride? What the fuck are you talking about?" Isak scoffs.

Eskild's eyebrows shoot up.

"Honey, you are sporting the mother of all hickeys on your neck right now."

Shit. What the fuck? Isak feels like his head has been dunked in a bucket of cold water.

"Um, must have been from some chick I hooked up with last night..." he mumbles not meeting Eskild's eyes, "anyway, I gotta go nap and shower and stuff so yeah, catch up later."

Isak bolts out the living room into the bathroom, gazes in the mirror and yes there is no denying the huge ass love bite on his neck.

Some girl he was making out with last night must have gotten a bit overexcited or something, Isak tells himself. Definitely that's how it happened. 100%. Mystery solved, no point overthinking it any more.

He heads into his room and lays down on the bed, stripping off to his underwear. Fuck is he tired. Whatever happened last night, it clearly did not prioritise sleep.

Propping his laptop open on his chest, Isak navigates to one of his favourite porn sites, pulls up a threesome with a chick and two guys.

He snakes his hand down under his boxers, focuses on the way the girl's tits bounce, stares at her hair and plush lips. Lips that look a bit like MM's.

Jesus. Isak tries to push that picture out of his head but it's no good. The more he tries to drop the image of MM's face out of his mind, the more it seems to stick and it doesn't seem to matter how hard he stares at the chick being pounded on screen.

He gives up, squeezes his eyes shut, listening to the sounds of the two guys groaning, can't help but imagine it's how MM sounds mid-fuck and then Isak is biting on his fist, as he comes suddenly.

He grabs a tissue by the bed, cleans himself up and slams his laptop shut.

Clearly his head is scrambled by lack of sleep or something, because Isak is straight, and picturing a dude's lips and them making sex noises is not what gets him off.

God. His brain needs a break.

Maybe he took something last night and that's what's making him think weird shit this morning. All he needs is a couple hours more sleep and no doubt he'll be back to feeling normal.

He pulls the duvet up over him, closes his eyes and passes the fuck out.

 

 


	3. Windowlicker

_21:06 the night of_

_Isak has worked his way through a good six cans and two joints. His head is buzzing and he feels restless, like his skin doesn't quite fit him right._

_"Boys, let's head out, Eskild is going to be pissed if we keep this up much longer."_

_Eskild won't be pissed, but Isak uses him as an excuse anyway. He just wants to leave already._

_The guys traipse through to the hallway, pulling on their shoes, Mahdi bitching because where the fuck is my hoodie, guys, Magnus you idiot, that's mine you're putting on — and Isak is trying to usher them out, down the stairs, onto the street._

_"FUCK it's cold," Jonas huffs, rubbing his palms together._

_Isak jams his beanie further down onto his head, starts walking down the street towards the tram stop._

_"ISAK! Fuck man, why you on such a mission, slow the fuck down," Magnus calls, jogging to catch up with him._

_"Someone is desperate to hook up," Mahdi grins._

_Isak rolls his eyes._

_"I'm never desperate. Look, if we take too long then the party might be too busy, like we don't even fucking go to Bakka."_

_"It's chill. I know a couple guys from there," Jonas says, reaching in his jacket pocket for coins as the tram pulls up._

_"Yeah yeah, that's what you said at the last party, and we ended up spending all night sat in a skate park cos your contact wasn't there."_

_"Dude that was one time!"_

_"One time too many," Isak grumbles._

_Ten minutes later, they're off the tram and stood outside a three storey town house. A couple are eating each other's faces off on the pavement, and a girl is slumped against the garden wall, another friend rubbing her back soothingly, a pool of sick next to her feet._

_"Alright boys, time to PAR-TAY!" Magnus is bounding through the gate and up the steps, pushes a hand on the front door, the bass of the music spilling out, a ton of people visible in the hallway._

_Isak breathes deeply, and then he's up the stairs and pushing his way in._

 

* * *

 

Isak wakes up the next day, still feeling weird about the porn incident, trying his best to blank it from his mind.

He flings a hand over to his bedside table, scrabbling for his phone. He has three texts from his mother, and his heart clenches, trying not to feel like a terrible human being when he presses delete, and a text from Jonas.

_Hey, you free today? Fancy chilling?_

Isak rubs a sleepy hand over his eyes.

_Yeah sure. give me half an hour need to get dressed. See you at usual spot?_

Jonas replies instantly, thumbs up emoji.

Half an hour later and Isak is feeling — and looking — a little more human, bundled up in a hoodie and jacket and snapback, scarf wrapped tight round his neck.

He sees Jonas perched on the edge of the skate jump, legs dangling, joint already lit up and in hand.

"Hey," he nods in greeting, exhaling and passing the joint to Isak.

Isak smiles, reaches out and inhales, feels his brain start to chill, the weirdness of yesterday fading away the more he breathes in.

They make small talk, chatting about school and girls, music and drugs and life.

Isak is pretty fucking high at this point, and his hunger pangs are kicking in right on cue.

"Bro I really could eat something right now."

"Mmmm," Jonas nods in agreement, stands up, offers a hand out to Isak and pulls him up, "I know this coffee shop my Bakka friends rave about, apparently best shit from Colombia that isn't illegal."

Isak lets out a laugh.  
  
"Yeah sounds good."

Oslo is usually cold and grey and grim at this time of year, but today is one of those dreamy winter sun days, sky unbelievably blue and air with that freshness that feels amazing to breathe in.

Isak tells Jonas so, and Jonas nods in agreement, and Isak feels warm inside because Jonas just gets it, he gets him and he feels like he can be himself around Jonas more than anyone else.

_No, you can't be yourself. You're a fucking liar, and if Jonas and everyone else knew, they wouldn't want to know you anymore_ a voice inside Isak's head spits out.

Isak feels a sick pang again, pushing the thoughts away, tuning back into what Jonas is saying.

"- Friday was unreal through, that party was crazy. I think Magnus nearly had a heart attack when he saw those two girls making out."

"Magnus would have a heart attack at seeing a grandma in a bikini, probably."

"Ha, true. And the music was amazing, trust Bakka kids to have a full on set of decks and vinyl, like what the fuck."

"Yeah, I think I saw you nearly orgasm when they put on Aphex Twin."

"Isakyaki, you don't understand, and it was a cute girl dj-ing at that point. I was ready to propose on the spot no joke."

"So does this mean you're ready to check in your single status card then?"

"I mean - yeah, I've thought about it. Something about winter you know. Fucking cold, dark and lonely. It'd be nice to have someone you know?"

"Yeah. I know."

They'd been walking for a few minutes now, and Jonas pulls his phone out, checking google maps.

"Soooo, we're like a couple minutes away. Jesus, I think I'll devour anything at this point."

"Tell me about it," Isak agrees, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to numb them as much as possible from the biting air.

"Anyway, bro. Where did you even end up on Friday? Like, I saw you for the first hour or so and then you just disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Um, yeah. I guess I hit it too hard, I had to bail out," Isak stumbles over the lie, feeling cotton mouthed. He hates this, lying to Jonas, and yet he can't tell him about MM, it feels too weird, like if he doesn't tell anyone then it stays in his head like some weird thing he dreamed up, like it never really happened.

"Shame. Anyway, look it's just over there," Jonas is pointing across the street and oh shit, that sign is unmistakeable.

"FUCKOFFEE?" Isak says, hoping Jonas doesn't notice the squeak in his voice.

"Yeah! The name is something else. Too hipster man, but like I said, Bakka peeps rave about it."

"Um," Isak flails, heart pounding and mouth dry and this is so, so dumb, but he can't deal with this, the thought of maybe seeing MM again, "I-I gotta go actually, I just remembered, Linn is cooking this dinner, and yeah."

Isak is already turning away, jogging down the street.

"Isak! What the fuck!" Jonas calls after him.

"Sorry!" Isak yells back and then he's turned the street corner, the coffee shop out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at this point I'm just putting song lyrics/names as chapter titles because I am lazy AF.
> 
> Also if anyone is wondering, don't worry because next chapter is the return of MYSTERY MAN (aka Even).


	4. Won't you let me be your get away

_23:37 the night of_

_This party is lame._

_At least, that's what Isak is telling himself._

_He's having a bad night, and it's because all these Bakka hipsters are insufferable. The music is weird, everyone is dressed like a grandma or a soviet era gymnast, his boys are nowhere to be seen._

_Plus, he's not really feeling any of the chicks here._

_He's contemplating just leaving because really, Netflix and solo chill would be more fun than this, when suddenly he feels cold dampness spreading down his arm._

_"Sorry!"_

_A girl with short brown hair and doe eyes is giggling up at him, trying to look apologetic and failing._

_Isak breathes deep through his nose, pushes down the annoyance because even though he is having a Bad Time, he doesn't want to be that uptight loser at the party who goes off on having a drink spilt on them._

_"No, it's fine, it's totally fine."_

_"I'm really sorry! It's beer, so it shouldn't stain or anything. I'm just wasted I guess." The girl laughs, clutches Isak's arm. "Let me make it up to you. I have some more cans in the fridge, let me get you one."_

_"No, no, it's chill, you don't-"_

_"I insist, seriously."_

_And then a hand is clamping round his forearm, dragging him through the crowds until he's in the kitchen in the back of the house. It's all shiny black marble and glass roof and fuck, whoever is throwing this party has seriously rich parents._

_It's a lot quieter in here than the living room and hallway, but there's still half a dozen people stood around, smoking, drinking, loud drunk voices talking about Trump and Vice magazines latest article._

_Isak drags his eyes back to the girl who's opening the double fridge doors up, pulling out a four pack of beer, passing him a can._

_"Thanks," he replies, cracking the lid open, taking a sip._

_The girl grabs her own can and then she's stood in front of him, smiling up at him still._

_Why, Isak thinks, why can't you just FEEL SOMETHING. His stupid fucking brain is broken. There's a pretty girl right in front of him, clearly into him, and he just can't find it in himself to even pretend to care._

_"My name's Emma. What's yours?"_

_"Isak."_

_"Cool! So, do you got to Bakka?"_

_"Uh, no. I'm at Nissen. Second year. You?"_

_"Ah no way! I'm at Nissen too, I just started."_

_And oh, great. Isak is definitely going to see this girl around. He takes a deep swig of his beer, then another, because maybe if he's a bit more buzzed he'll find the urge to kiss her, like she wants him to, like he wishes he wanted to._

_He puts his now empty can on the countertop, puts a hand on her waist and she's still smiling up at him and then -_

_"What the fuck!"_

_For the second time that night, Isak feels a drink being spilt on him, this time into the small of his back._

_He turns round, ready to bite this person's head off because excuse them, he was just about to Kiss a Girl, and then -_

_And then has to look up, up, because the guilty party is tall. Really fucking tall. And a guy. Who looks older than Isak._

_"Um," Isak swallows._

_This tall guy, mystery man, whatever, is fucking tall. He's tall and he has nice eyes. Isak can't help but stare into them, feels his eyes tracking down the guy's face and what the fuck, his lips are ridiculous. Lips which are now quirking into a grin and oh shit, Isak has just been starting blatantly at this guy in silence and he wants to die because he looks so gay right now and -_

_"Hey, my bad," tall guy says, smiling down at Isak, and Isak feels like he wants to vomit, "I didn't see you there."_

_"Isak is having an unlucky night!" At the sound of Emma's voice, Isak's weird trance is broken and he tilts his head down, stares at the floor, cheeks growing hot. He has to get out of this stupid kitchen, he needs air._

_"I'm just -" he gestures in the direction of the patio doors, "I need a minute, catch up later Emma."_

_And then he's outside, and he sits in a heap on the garden bench, breathing in deeply, pressing the heels of his palm into his eyes. Why the fuck does he feel like crying? Why the fuck does nothing work out for him, ever? Why can't his brain be normal, like his friends?_

_"Hey."_

_Isak feels a warm weight against his side, and turns, already knowing who it's going to be, already their voice imprinted on him like some shitty stamp in a club that you can't wash off, no matter how hard you scrub._

_Tall guy is looking into his eyes, so intense, face serious. Isak feels like the guy is staring into his soul or some shit._

_"Do you want to share this?"_

_And then he's pulling a joint out from inside his denim jacket pocket. Isak relaxes, because he doesn't think he could have handled it if he'd asked him "are you okay", but he can handle this, sharing a joint in silence._

_"Sure."_

_Tall guy sticks the joint in the corner of his mouth, lips plush against the paper, and his hands look giant as they cup round the lighter, the flame illuminating his face briefly._

_He inhales, holds it in, breathes out, passes the joint to Isak._

_Isak takes it, and if his hands shake slightly when tall guy places it in his fingers, it's because of the cold, nothing else._

_"So, Isak. Why are you not having fun."_

_"How do you know my name?"_

_"Teenage Natalie Portman said it earlier."_

_Isak smiles._

_"Maybe - maybe because some tall asshole spilt a drink on me."_

_He feels crippling shy, and Isak isn't usually like this, not anymore. But he's feeling shaken and weird and he's just so tired. Tired of pretending._

_"Oh yeah? That's too bad. I heard about the tall drink spilling asshole too. Pretty sure his name's Even, and he's really sorry about it."_

_Isak can't think of anything to say. He's just enjoying the warmth of the smoke as it envelops his lungs, the feel of Even's thigh pressed next to his._

_Even doesn't seem to mind the silence either, which Isak is glad of. They pass the joint back and forth until it's burned down. Even flicks the butt of it onto the floor, brushes his palms against his thighs and stands up._

_Isak looks up. An outstretched hand is hovering in front of him, palm upwards._

_"Come with me."_

_It's not phrased as a question, and Isak tells himself that's why he feels powerless to refuse as he places his hand in Even's, feels his body being pulled up from the bench._

_"Where to?"_

_"Anywhere."_

* * *

 

It's Monday, and although Isak usually hates Monday, because Monday means a whole week of school, he's glad for the distraction. He needs to put as much distance between him and this fucked up weekend as possible.

He has Biology first, his best subject, and although he'd never admit it out loud, his best study partner too. Sana is a fierce Muslim girl who takes no shit from anyone. She's unapologetically herself and Isak can't help but admire her, wish he could be more like her.

"Okay, we need to turn to chapter six. Enzymes."

She has on a bright yellow headscarf and a look of determination on her face as she flicks through the weighty textbook.

"Hey, Sana."

"Yes, Isak?" She doesn't look up from where she's running a finger down the page, scanning from side to side.

"I just wanted to say - well, I appreciate you. And you suit yellow."

She looks up at him, sunny smile enveloping her face.

"Why the sappiness this morning?" She teases.

"What, I can't be nice? Fine, fuck you. I hate yellow."

Sana lets out a bark of laughter and Isak smiles back. He's feeling more like himself already.

*

The week passes by, filled with lessons and the boys, Netflix and pot and Eskild telling loud, dramatic stories about the Kardashians (which Isak tries his best to tune out).

Before he knows it Thursday has rolled around.

He's finished school for the day, stayed an hour late to talk to his teacher about his project. Outside, the school grounds are empty, the sky starting to darken with dusk.

Isak jams his headphones on, turns up his music, Kanye blasting through about the system being broken and power.

He's pacing through the streets, eyes on the ground, when he feels his pace slow. Look up.

Across the street, the orange sign of FUCKOFFEE is lit up like a beacon.

He stops suddenly. His palms feel itchy, his feet glued to the floor. _Go over there_ his head screams at him. _Go over there._

Fuck it. Just, fuck it all. Isak is striding across the street, pushing headphones down round his neck, he's pushing the door of the coffee shop open and he's surrounded by posters, dark wood, Mac books, disco music and -

And two girls behind the counter, one with bleach blonde hair in a top knot, the other with a black blunt bob.

Isak lets out the breath he didn't realise he was holding in.

He goes up to the counter, heart beat slowing down as it sinks in that MM isn't there.

"Uh," he glances up at the chalkboard menu above the counter, "can I get a flat white?"

"Sure. That'll be fifty kroner." Blondie types it into the register, shoves out her hand as Isak fumbles getting change out of his wallet.

He moves to the end of the counter as the other girl gets started making his coffee. He kind of wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He can't believe he got himself so worked up over a stupid coffee shop.

He grabs the paper cup when the girl places it down, and fuck it, he may as well chill here for a bit. He settles down in a velvet arm chair, shoving his back pack on the floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening up Instagram.

"Isak?"

He looks up, brows furrowed.

MM is looking down at him, barista apron tied round his waist, shirt sleeves rolled up.

Isak feels his heart stuck in his throat.

Fuck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter in a day, what am I even doing. Enjoy guys!
> 
> (Also, FUCKOFFEE is a real coffee shop in London that I go to, I can't claim any kind of credit for the pun sadly).


	5. Cocaine, running around my brain

_The_ _23:55, the night of_

_‘Anywhere’ turns out to be a black Volkswagen Golf parked outside the front on the street._

_‘Um,’ Isak says, opening the passenger side door, sliding in, ‘are you safe to – can you drive?’_

_Even is frowning, rooting round in the car door, leans across Isak, opens the glove box –_

_‘Aha,’ he grins, pulling out a plastic bag filled with something white, ‘we’re not driving anywhere Isak, chill.’_

_Isak feels his alarmed expression relax, lets out a sigh._

_‘Do you want to partake?’ Even opens the bag, fumbles in his wallet for a key._

_‘Uh, yeah. Sure,’ Isak hope he comes across as someone confident, someone who does drugs in cars with strangers all the time, but he’s pretty sure he’s failing miserably. If the grin Even is throwing him, as he snorts, is anything to go by._

_‘Fuck!’ he rubs the back of his nose with his hand, ‘this is some good shit.’ He passes the stuff to Isak, and Isak quickly follows suit, probably scooping up way too much but whatever, it seems he’s going with instinct tonight. Boundaries are out of the window._

_It hits him pretty much straight away, a buzz filling his mind, a weird energy surging through him. Even has put on the car radio, is blasting some hip hop, nodding his head, throwing sideways glances at Isak._

_‘Like, where are we going? Let’s fucking go somewhere. I feel fucking great!’_

_Even let’s out a bark of laughter._

_‘Is this Isak in party mode? I thought I’d never meet him,’ he teases._

_‘Fuck off. I party hard! They don’t call me Isak Party Animal Valtersen for no reason.’_

_‘You’re adorable,’ Even grins, ‘And yes, we are fucking going somewhere. A rave.’_

_Isak feels a thrum of excitement run through him. YES. He needs to dance._

_Even slots car keys into the ignition, and Isak five minutes ago would have panicked, but Isak as of now is flying high, feeling impulsive and like he doesn’t give a fuck._

_‘Let’s go,’ he grins, turning the volume up on the radio._

_The drive is a blur, more drugs, more music, turning to just stare at Even’s face a bit too much, trying to memorise his profile, burn it into the deep recesses of his brain. Isak gets too hot at some point and rolls the window down, sticks his head out of it, feeling like a happy dog, Even’s laughter warming him deep inside._

_It could have been ten minutes or two hours later, when they pull up in front of some industrial park. Out the front, tons of cars are parked up. There’s a huge warehouse with light spilling out of it, the thud of bass travelling out._

_‘Come on, party animal,’ Even says as he turns off the ignition, stepping out the door, ‘let’s go.’_

 

* * *

 

 

It feels like time has frozen.

Mystery Man is stood in front of him, a frown clouding his face, and Isak can’t take his eyes off him.

‘Isak? Are you okay?’

No, Isak is not ok. He is so very far from okay, because this boy in front of him is making things surface that he tries so hard to push down.

‘Uh,’ he croaks, his voice coming out squeaky. He coughs, plasters on a weak smile, ‘Just, uh, getting a caffeine fix.’

He lifts up his half empty cup, put sit back down again, feeling awkward as fuck.

MM’s eyes are warm and a smile is playing on his lips.

Why are you looking at me like that, Isak thinks, can feel his heart pounding.

‘Well. Listen, I understand if you don’t want to. But uh, my shift ends at eight, I know that’s a while away. But it’d be great to… talk. I’ll throw in a free heavenly brownie as an incentive. It’s gluten free, if you’re into that kind of thing.’

Isak’s heart feels like it’s in his throat. Talk. What does that even mean? When people want to Talk, it’s usually something serious.

It’s like MM can read his expression, because he throws his hands up, takes a step back.

‘Hey, don’t feel like you need to say yes. But, I have been told our gluten free brownies are the dankest thing this side of Grunnerlokka.’

The lame joke breaks the tension for Isak, and he lets out a laugh, returning MM’s smiles.

‘Sure. It better taste amazing man. It’s not like you haven’t bigged it up or anything.’

MM smiles back.

‘You won’t regret it.’

Isak lets out a sigh as MM walks away, starts to peel off his layers, bedding down in the armchair. He’s going to be here for a couple hours so he may as well get comfy.

He has one ear bud in and a text book open in his lap when MM wanders back over, a cup of coffee in one hand and a brownie on a plate in the other.

‘You better feel special right now, this isn’t a table service place.’

Isak rolls his eyes.

‘So special. Gimme the damn brownie.’

MM raises an eyebrow.

‘So demanding! Enjoy, Mr Bossy.’

He places the coffee and plate down on the table in front of Isak and walks off.

Isak picks up his coffee, takes a sip. The brownie IS fucking delicious.

He spends the next few hours attempting to study, but it’s hard.

Hard, when MM is just a few metres away, behind the counter, serving people with a sunny smile and deep laugh.

Isak can’t help but glance up often, cheeks flushing when MM catches him in the act of staring.

A warm feeling has settled in the pit of his stomach, and he’s just happy to let it sit there, not questioning, not trying to yell at his internal thoughts. Not trying to deny. Just being in the moment.

He’s finally managed to get his head down, concentrating on his text book, when he feels a presence over him and looks up.

‘So, we’re closing up. Ready to go?’


	6. Whisper sweet and whisper slow, never let me go

_03:44, the night of_

_Isak can't feel his face._

_And yes, that's some dumbass pop lyric. But he genuinely can't feel his face. He can feel the hard wad of gum in his mouth, chewed to destruction. He can feel the sweat pooling down his forehead, dripping from his hair, as he dances in time to the rhythm. He can feel Even's hand in the small of his back from time to time, reassuring, soothing._

_He can feel his heart beating in his chest._

_But he can't feel his face._

_He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, slippy in his hand. The screen lights up - and when the fuck did it become 4 in the morning? Time isn't linear anymore._

_His movements are slowing down. They finished the drugs a while back. His body is starting to feel heavy. He tips his head back against Even, rolls his neck to the side, exposing._

_Even breathes out, cool against his hot skin._

_Isak shivers, grinds backwards, Even a firm weight behind him._

_Hands settle on his hips._

_He feels fucking fantastic._

_'Can we get out of here.'_

_Isak feels Even's hands leave his hips. He's about to protest, but then Even is grabbing his hand and then they're leaving the music, the smoke, the bass, the humidity behind._

_They sit for a few minutes in Even's car, sharing a bottle of water. Isak's heart is pounding but he knows it's not the drugs at this point. Even's hand is reached across the console, stroking back and forth on Isak's thigh._

_He closes his eyes and tilts his head back._

_'Fuck,' Even's voice is hoarse, 'look at you. I bet you look like this after sex.'_

_Isak feels his cheeks flush, but keeps his eyes shut._

_'Drive. Please?'_

_They stay in silence as Even drives, one hand on the steering wheel, the other still clamped on Isak's thigh._

_After a while on empty roads, the headlights the only sign of life, the car slows, comes to a stop._

_Even turns the engine off._

_'Let's get some air.'_

_As Isak steps out the car, he peers into the dark._

_'A playground? Are you for real?'_

_'What's wrong with a playground?'_

_'Like... We've gone from a drugged up rave to a playground? Feels wrong. Little kids play here and shit.'_

_'You were never a child once?' Even smiles. It's not teasing, it's just... Nice. Lights up his whole face._

_Isak feels a smile breaking out to match his._

_Even wanders away from the car, down the steps and hops onto the roundabout._

_'Get on, I'll push you,' he grins._

_Isak rolls his eyes but acquiesces, stumbling a bit as he manoeuvres the steps._

_'You're just a giant kid, aren't you?'_

_'And you seem to have grown up too much.'_

_It hits a bit too close to home. Isak frowns as he reaches the roundabout, plants one foot on the ground, the other on the base, pushing off harder and harder until the world is just a blur and they're laughing from the dizziness._

_After they lay down on the grass, side by side. Isak is hyper aware of Even's arm pressed against his._

_'Talk to me.'_

_'About what?'_

_'About anything. Everything. Your childhood. Your fears. Your dreams. I want to know it all.'_

_'How much coke did you have,' Isak sniffs._

_'This isn't high talk. Well, it is. But that doesn't mean I don't wanna know. So. Tell me.'_

_Isak breathes in deep. Talks. And talks and talks and talks._

_He tells Even stuff his friends don't know. That his family doesn't know. He tells Even his deepest darkest secret._

_Even is facing him. Smiling encouragingly. He holds Isak's hand when Isak's throat gets tight. He wipes a tear away that Isak didn't feel fall._

_Isak doesn't ask Even questions. This is his confession. Even listens and listens._

_By the end, Isak is snuggled up into Even's side, breath soft and slow. Even has his hand wrapped round his shoulder._

 

_Is this what total contentment feels like?_

 

_'Isak?' Even is whispering, his face up close to Isak's. Isak can see his individual eyelashes, the blue of his irises._

 

_'Yes?'_

 

_'I'm going to kiss you now.'_

 

_\----------------------------------------_

 

Isak is Not Freaking Out.

 

Okay. That's a lie. A HUGE lie.

 

MM has gone back to the counter 'to get rid of this stupid apron, and I need to grab my jacket'.

 

And Isak is stood by the door, trying not to hyperventilate. 

 

'Ready?' 

 

MM is smiling, so big that his face is lit up like the freaking sun or something.

 

'Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean. Yes.'

 

And oh god, can Isak die already. 

 

They step out of the coffee shop, walking along the road in silence, shoulders occasionally bumping. Isak's brain is going frantic, trying to think of something to say. He has to come up with something better than 'so, it turns out I don't even remember your name...'

 

'Great conversation.'

 

MM nudges him, smiling. 

 

'I,' Isak starts, stops, stutters again, 'I - uh, I...'

 

'Yeah?' 

 

'I can't remember your name.'

 

MM lets out a bark of laughter.

 

'Wow. Wow, do you know how to make a boy feel special.'

 

Isak feels his face grow hot.

 

'Like, I am so sure you remember my entire name!!!'

 

'Yes I do, Isak Valtersen. Remembering someone's name is a basic politeness.'

 

'What the fuck - how do you know my surname?'

 

'I'm a great detective.'

 

'Yeah, well... You still haven't told me your name.'

 

'Even.'

 

'Even what? It's only fair you tell me your surname, so then we're on equal grounds.'

 

'Ah, but I had to work for yours. You don't get it that easy.'

 

Isak looks across and Even is teasing. Smiling. Even is flirting with him.

 

Isak's stomach feels weird. Kind of fuzzy and a bit sick at the same time.

 

'Back to the scene of the crime.' 

 

They're outside a children's playground. There's the roundabout that they spun on until they both nearly vomited. There's the stairs Isak nearly tripped and broke his neck on. And there's the grass where they -

 

An image comes to Isak's mind. No, not an image. A feeling. A feeling of soft lips on his, a large hand cupping his jaw, stroking through his hair.

 

He lets out an audible gasp.

 

'Everything okay?'

 

'Yes. Yes. Why wouldn't it be?' 

 

'I dunno, maybe because you literally just seemed to jump out of your skin?'

 

'Haha. What? I'm totally cool. Chill. It's all chill.'

 

Even is smiling at him again. 

 

'Sure.'

 

'Sure! Exactly! Let's go chill on the, uh, swings.'

 

They wander over, flop themselves down. Soon they're pulling themselves as far back as they can go, in a silent competition to see who can go highest.

 

After, when they've both flung themselves off, they're sitting on the grass, laughing.

 

'Like, you have a few inches on me, so technically an unfair advantage.'

 

Even lets out a snort, hands rolling a cigarette quickly.

 

'If that's what will help you sleep at night. Sure, Isak, you can tell yourself that.'

 

He lights up, takes a drag, passes it to Isak.

 

'So. I remember we talked a lot. About a lot of stuff. But none of the basics? Like. Where do you go to school?'

 

'Really?' Isak rolls his eyes, 'Are we really doing lame twenty one questions ones right now?'

 

'Says the guy who had to ask me what my fucking name is!'

 

'Okay. You have a point...'

 

They talk until the cigarette burns out. They talk until their breath huffs out in small puffs in front of them, and Even's nose has turned pink at the tip. They talk until Isak's cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

 

'So... We should probably be heading back now. It's like midnight, and I don't want to make you too tired for school.'

 

'So thoughtful of you.'

 

'Yes. I'm a saint of a man.'

 

Isak smiles. He hopes he looks calm. Because inside, he's a mess. For the past ten minutes, he's just been replaying the feel of Even's lips on his, over and over and over.

 

What would happen if he tried to kiss him now?

 

They're stood by the playground entrance, next to the gate. Even has his hands jammed in his pockets. Isak is looking up at him.

 

They're looking into each other's eyes. 

 

Isak feels naked. Bare. Stripped of any pretence under Even's gaze.

 

He doesn't realise he's leaning in until Even is leaning back.

 

'I have,' Even starts, stops. Looks down. 'I have to go.'

 

He turns on his heels, not even waiting for Isak to reply, and walks away.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my posting schedule is all over the place!!! Also, I feel like the tone isn't very consistent between the flashback and the present in this chapter? My writerly justification (lol) is that the flashback is hazy and everything feels more epic and dramatic when you're under the influence. Real (sober) life is less slick and has more comedic moments.


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